“So, ten years and still together,” said Harry ponderingly.

“Ten years and three children later,” said Hermione wonderingly. “And no closer to a divorce.”

“That’s what you think,” muttered Harry darkly. “Every morning I wake up to sounds that I swear to be banshees screaming -”

“Alternatively known as our children,” said Hermione sternly.

“That’s what you think. I don’t think Voldemort himself gave me such tremors.”

“Joking is, and never will be, your magical talent, Harry,” responded Hermione, rolling her eyes.

“The one thing that you’re unable to teach me.”

“Amongst other things,” said Hermione. “I’ve seen your side of the bedroom. I’ve never seen mess like it. Talk about setting an example for your children.”

“A bit of healthy mess isn’t bad for anybody,” said Harry defensively. “Except, perhaps, for Dobby.”

“You have been paying him, haven’t you?” said Hermione, glaring.

“Of course! Although he still insists we’re overpaying him.”

“He would do. Is he still knitting your woollen socks?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

“No,” sighed Hermione. “You go and get the children ready. We’re going for a teddy bear’s picnic.”

“In the woods,” he replied flatly.

“Yes, Harry, in the woods. Where they will not get lost, squashed, dismembered or be snatched…”

“I’m not a paranoid parent! It’s a dangerous world out there!”

Hermione simply rolled her eyes and continued to pack her bag.

“Fine! I can see when I’m being overruled! Kids, come down here! We’re all going to our doom -”

“Yes, dad.”

Three heads popped around the kitchen door and rolled their eyes in the same manner as their mother.